


The Devil Wants Me. My Brother Doesn't.

by Elijah_Dentwood



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-07
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-18 12:47:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1429111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elijah_Dentwood/pseuds/Elijah_Dentwood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This prompt from the kink meme - </p><p>Sam is the one who travels into the future to the 2014 End verse in 5.04 instead of Dean.<br/>Gen or any pairings welcome. Take this prompt wherever you want. I just want to see how Sam would react to this future and how the 2014 characters would react to Sam.</p><p>Told from the End verse characters' POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It's not that Cas doesn't hear the blundering footsteps of whoever is moving behind his hut, it's just that he doesn't care. He leans back against the rough wood and takes a drag on the joint between his fingers. He holds his breath until a tall figure enters the edge of his vision. 

Cas lets his head slip to the side, taking in the familiar height, the flop of hair. He laughs because he'd always thought Sam would look different with Lucifer inside him. 

'Cas?' 

Sam steps forward and Cas leans towards him. He looks over Sam for what feels like forever. 'You're...Sam' he says finally. Pain flickers across his face as the joint tips against his finger and slow-burns against his skin. He puts it between his lips pulls himself up to his feet. 

'Cas, what's going on? The city, and the papers...' Sam trails off, features twisted in concern. 

'You're not _now_ you,' Cas says. He reaches out and touches the edges of Sam's shirt, skirting his fingers over the buttons. 'What year are you from?' 

'2009. So it really is 2014?' Sam asks, looking between Cas' face and his wandering hands. 

'You need to come inside,' Cas says 'before Dean sees you.' 

'So he is here! Where is he?' 

'Uh. You should just come inside, Sam. Dean...well he's gonna be...let's just say it'd be better if I warn him first.' 

'Are you smoking drugs?' Sam asks, incredulous. 

Cas laughs and takes the joint from between his lips. 

Cas lets Sam go in ahead of him. His head jerks up in surprise when he hears Sam swear lightly. He's forgotten there's a girl in his bed. Gemma, Jenna? Something. Cas moves past him and over to the bed, stroking her arm and she blearily wakes. 'Hey, beautiful. I need you to go back to your cabin, okay?' The girl sits up, shrugs off the sheet. Sam turns politely as it drops down below her bare chest. 

'They're just breasts, Sam' Cas says. He finds her shirt on the floor and helps her pull it over her head. She takes a minute to find her skirt, then wanders past Sam out of the cabin with it still in her hand. 

Cas watches after her and sighs wistfully. 

'So Sam, did Zachariah send you?' 

'How did you know?' 

'Who else?' 

Sam shrugs, 'he appeared in the car, told me he wanted me to see what would happen. Can you take me back?' 

Cas' smile widens until he laughs. 'Sam, what do you think I'm gonna do? Strap on my wings and fly you there?'

Sam shakes his head in confusion, 'can't you just-' 

'I can't just anything' Cas says, anger bursting through 'I'm not an angel anymore Sam. After you said yes the angels just left. My grace just faded.' 

'After I did what?' 

'You said 'yes'. To Lucifer. You're his vessel.' 

Sam sits down on the bed beside Cas. 'Why?' 

Cas looks at him, pupils shrunk to nothing. His heart is racing. The weed and the pills he took earlier battling over sedation and excitement. 'You were always going to' he says softly. 'It's what you're made for. You can't do anything else.' 

Sam stares down at his hands. Cas is different, but his words are the same. He thinks Sam will make the wrong choice. Just like he always has. 

'I'll find Dean,' Cas says, putting a hand on Sam's arm for a moment. He leans past Sam and stubs out his joint. 

Zachariah will be protecting Sam, it won't matter if Dean tries to hurt him. That's not why Cas wants Dean to see – he wants Dean to see that he couldn't have stopped Sam saying 'yes', that this would always happen. He wants Dean to say goodbye, to put Sam aside so he can kill Lucifer without hesitation. 

Where Dean spends the night is never a secret. He always wants to be found. Cas asks one of the guys on guard and smirks when he gets the answer that he's in Jane's cabin. 

When he walks in Dean has her on her knees, ass in the air. He spreads her cheeks apart, gaping the hole wide before pushing in the head of his dick. Cas palms at his own crotch, dampening his all-too-easily gained hard-on. 

'Hey Dean,' he says. 

Dean swears, balls deep in Jane. He turns his head but doesn't pull out. 'What do you want, Cas?' 

'I've got something you're gonna want to see.' 

'Can I finish up here first?' Dean says, and it's less of a question than a threat. Cas considers it can't hurt. He waves a carry on gesture. 

Jane is almost silent as Dean pulls out and slams into her ass again, the only noise her huffed breath out as he pushes her down. Cas' dick is thickening again, and if he's going to stand and watch anyway then he may as well... 

Dean raises his eyebrows as Cas climbs onto the other side of the bed. He watches Cas lift Jane's chin with his fingers and guide his cock between her lips. She gives a hum of pleasure and Dean shakes his head. He's never had any complaints, but Jane is happiest with two dicks ploughing her and the whole camp knows it. 

Cas' eyes rest on Jane for a while, caught by the rhythm of her mouth sliding down his length, and the little shove at the end when Dean slams into her. When he looks up and catches Dean's gaze he remembers how Dean's mouth feels, how it's better than anything. He clambers forward to kiss Dean, forcing himself against the back of Jane's mouth. She whines as his lips find Dean's. 

It takes a while for him to soften, to open up to Cas' tongue. When Cas pulls back for a breath Dean tells him it's a wonder he doesn't get high just from Cas' spit. 

Jane finds a hand to push at Cas' hip. He pulls out and tips her face up towards him again. 'Look at you,' he says, 'do you even feel it anymore?' Dean rolls his eyes, wishes Cas would stick to the dirty talk, not get all philosophical. 'It's the connection, you're growing numb to it. You've got to...open yourself to the experience, not just the pleasure.' 

Cas disappears from Dean's view. He lays down, slides himself underneath Jane. He feels his way to her pussy with his fingers, then guides his dick in. He can feel the press of Dean inside her too. Jane is gasping, moaning, unsure which way to move. Cas pulls her down to him, forcing Dean down with her. He wishes it was him Dean was fucking. 

Janes' orgasm is a treat; the tight spasms work around him and Dean is pulling out slowly. Cas comes with his lips parted, eyes closed. Dean watches raptly, slamming into his own orgasm when Cas bites down lightly on his lower lip.  
Dean backs up first, pulls up his jeans and collects his gun from beside the bed. Jane takes a moment to stare at Cas dreamily, brushes a thumb across his mouth before kissing it firmly. Cas brushes hair back from her face. This is her ultimate distraction from the world outside, Cas is happy for her. 

She slips off Cas and curls up in her bed, leaving Cas to tidy himself up. He sides up to Dean, is met by a warning glare. Affection from Dean is carefully, deliberately portioned. 

Cas licks his lips, 'so, my cabin?' 

Dean glares again. 

'No. No, the thing I want you to see...' Cas reminds him. 

'Okay. Fine.'


	2. Chapter 2

**Earlier....**

Sam's knuckles are white around the wheel; he's been gripping tightly since Dean hung up on him. He's been driving so long that sunrise is creeping over his dashboard. His eyes narrow against the new light, straining and stinging.

Sam was already driving towards Dean when he called. Where else would he go, after Lucifer had told him he was The One? He'd never even thought Dean might say what he did. He'd never imagined not being able to go back to him. It was always Sam that left, Sam who came back. Dean didn't – couldn't, turn him away. He pulls over now, because he's kept on driving but he has nowhere to go.

Sam plucks his cell from the passenger seat. His brows knit together as he thinks about calling Dean back. He'll tell him he's scared, that he needs him. He'll tell Dean he _can't_ turn him away. He doesn't. He drops the phone in his lap and lets his head drop back against his seat.

'Dammit Dean,' he mutters, slams the heel of his palm into the steering wheel.

Going his own way has always been Sam's thing, but there's always been a way back. Even leaving for Stanford, Dad and Dean had only been a phone call away. Now Dean's saying what? The very thing that holds them together is the reason to stay apart? Sam doesn't want to say yes, doesn't intend to, but facing down Lucifer, without Dean...

Sam closes his eyes. Tries to walk familiar paths of meditation. A garden at the back of a house Dad once rented. He lays on the grass in his mind, tells himself he can feel the earth at his back and the sun on his cheeks. Hear kids laughing nearby. Somehow, he falls asleep.

When he opens his eyes he's driving again, car veering into the dirt. He jerks the steering wheel and rights himself on the road. He shakes his head, tries to piece it together.

'Sam,' the car lurches forward, Sam reigns in his flail of surprise, eyes darting from his passenger seat to the road.

'Zachariah?'

'Thought you could use a bit of help, Sam.'

Sam faces front, scanning the road for signs. This isn't where he was driving before he stopped and fell asleep. He doesn't say anything to the angel beside him.

'Aw, come on now Sam! Divine help? A guardian angel. Most humans would kill for-'

'Yeah, well I think I've had enough of angels for a while.'

'You still pray though, don't you Sam?'

Sam clenches his jaw, hands twitchy on the wheel. He does pray, but he's never thought anyone could hear. Maybe even hoped they didn't.

'Listen. Like I said, I'm helping you out. You need to see what will happen. You'll thank me once this is all over.'

'Once what is all over?'

Sam looks over to an empty passenger seat. He lets out a huff of air and keeps driving. After a moment he breaks, hard. Cars litter the road, abandoned. He slows to a crawl and edges around them, only scanning ahead once he's clear. His stomach sinks as the skyline of a city comes into view to his right – a broken, smoke-filled skyline.

Sam swallows hard and lets the car slow to a stop. It looks as though someone has snapped the tops of high-rises, set fire to homes and stomped down on whatever was left.

He looks over to his passenger seat again, wishing he'd said more to Zachariah. Something has slipped into the foot well. He leans over and grabs a newspaper 'President Palin defends bombing of Houston'. He quickly searches for the date – August 4 2014.

The decimated city resembles something from _War of the Worlds_ , and with the newspaper too Sam's beginning to feel like he's in some kind of terrible made for TV sci-fi movie. He does the only thing that makes sense, edges the car forward and drives on, hoping to find people to talk to. Regular people.

He doesn't have to wait long. Only a few miles and he's joined by an army truck. They force him to pull over, a few of them leaping from the back of the truck to meet him.

'What's going on here?' Sam asks. The army guys are well armed, though they aren't in uniform. Each one has a gun of some sort by his side.

'You're out past curfew. Where you headed?' One of them asks. Sam turns to him.

'Uh. I'm not sure. I got lost.'

'What's your name?'

'Winchester. Sam Winchester.'

'Winchester? Like Dean Winchester?' one of the others pipes up. Sam hesitates, but they don't seem upset at Dean's name so he decides to take a chance.

'My brother's name is Dean. Do you know where he is?'

Sam seems to have said the right thing, the group settle.

'Sure. Climb back in your car, follow the truck until we give you a wave, then head off right for a couple of miles to Camp Chitaqua.

'Thank you.' Sam wants to ask them what year it is, but he's seen enough movies, read enough books to know not to. Something strange is happening, probably because of Zachariah.

When he finally reaches the Camp, it's Cas he finds first. Stoned, dressed like a hippy, fallen from grace Castiel. He sits on Cas' bed, pulls the newspaper from his back pocket and reads through it eagerly whilst Cas gets Dean.

Reading soothes his nerves whilst he waits, and distracts him from the fact that he feels nervous at all. Dean has never made him feel...well, before the call, had never before made him feel anything but safe, perhaps smothered at times, but Dean was the ultimate in Good Intentions.

 

**Now....**

Dean's said nothing and it's destroying Cas' post-fuck, post-smoke, post-pill buzz. He rolls his eyes and reaches for Dean, his muscles are all tense and he's walking as fast as he can without breaking into a run. His hand slips off Dean's forearm and he trails back slightly.

'Dean, try and remember he's _Sam_. Old Sam,' he pauses for a second, 'young Sam.'

He catches up with Dean as he bursts through the door. Cas' reflexes are sluggish, so when Dean pulls his gun from it's holster and fires off a shot at Sam, it helps that Sam stands from the bed. Cas' arm swipes across at Dean's, their bones jarring at each other. Dean misses a step, but he turns the gun in his hand and Cas can see where it's going next.

He steps between them, and because he's still Cas, mojo or no, he turns and swings a fist into Sam's face that knocks him out cold.

Sam can hear them again before he can see them. Cas' low voice rumbling soothingly, punctuated by the odd sigh or grunt that he guesses is Dean. He can see them as his eyes open, blurry figures by the door. Cas' hand on his brother's cheek, brushing across stubble. It's weirdly intimate, even for them. Dean's still stood stiffly, as though he's allowing Cas to do this, but refuses to give in to it.

'You're awake,' Cas says. His hand drops back to his side. 'I'm sorry about that. Dean might have killed you.'

Sam tentatively touches his cheekbone, wincing as he touches bruised flesh. He's sure it's going to be colorful.

'Dean, I know this is weird but-' he starts to say.

'Weird? Some of the people in this camp have seen you before, know you. I'm supposed to let the Devil walk around like it's no problem?'

'Dean' Cas says. It has a tone of caution, but laced with concern. 'Only you and I know Sam's here. I thought it would be good for you to talk to him.'

'Fuck, Cas. What is there to say? To some time traveling ghost?'

'Sam's not dead,' Cas says gently.

'Cas...' Dean warns.

Cas faces Sam, apparently determined to tell him. 'Sam, when you said yes to Lucifer, he kept you alive. Lucifer uses the vessel, Sam's still in there somewhere.' The expression on Cas' face is familiar, but it's usually directed at Dean. It's compassion, concern, a degree of care that he's sure in his own time Cas feels for Dean, not so much for him. 

'Like you did with Jimmy?' Sam asks.

'Something like that.'

Dean shakes his head. Sam's not sure if he doesn't believe it, or is just pissed that Cas is talking about it.

'Sam, Dean plans on killing Lucifer. That means he has to kill you too.'

Dean's eyes dart across to Cas. He lifts a hand and rubs it across his face. No one's said it out loud. No one's been stupid enough. He has to kill the devil, doesn't mean he has to think about Sam. Sam's gone. He made his choice when he said yes.

Dean mutters something that Sam only catches as a string of cursing and leaves Cas' hut.


End file.
